


All in Circles

by Lillithayn



Series: Forget Me Not [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Community: falloutkinkmeme, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fallout Kink Meme, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Personal Canon, Porn with Feelings, Requited Love, Romantic Fluff, Size Kink, True Love, Unresolved Tension, Voice Kink, What-If, but needless to say the courier has issues, really everything that's implied is so miniscule it's barely worth mentioning, sort of an origin story within a story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3723319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillithayn/pseuds/Lillithayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courier Six and Ulysses headcannon, fill for fallout kinkmeme.</p><p>"Misses her till he’s aching, as he always had. Hard not to reach for her now— when she’s breathing next to him, brushing his arm as they walk. Hard not to love her when she looks out for him— when she presses her hand to his back when they hit a crack in the ground as if she’s meaning to keep him safe. Hard not to look at her when he’s dreamt of her every night since he saw her last. Hard to be around her, because to Ulysses— she’s an angel, not even tangible or touchable, can’t ever be his."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            He’d been selfish, and now she was gone.  
  
            Ulysses had realized it the moment he opened his eyes, when he didn’t hear the clatter of pots or the crackle of fire, when the sound of her humming was absent as she sharpened her katana. At first, there was panic; thinking that someone had taken her or killed her and he hadn’t been coherent enough to stop it. The two of them had been traveling four days straight with little sleep, and when they finally set up camp— exhaustion took over enough to knock him out until sunrise. He had slept through his shift and she probably was too tired to fight off who’d ever happened upon her during the night.  
  
            If that was the case, he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself. Not when he’d just gotten her back— just got close to her again. Ulysses quietly grabbed for his weapon and began his search. The first thing he realized was that the fire was still well to burning. It was as if someone had tended to it recently, but there were no footsteps to be found anywhere. There was no sign of struggle, either; no blood, nothing out of place— as if God himself reached down and plucked her from her chair. It was odd.  
  
            For a moment, he wondered if it was still possible that she’d been kidnapped. Whoever had done it had did so within the last hour, and had left no trace behind. That only left two options; one, that whoever took her was well trained, or she hadn’t been taken in the first place. He didn’t know which was worse; that she’d leave without saying a word, or that Inculta had come to collect his precious little trophy. Why he would leave him alive made little sense, though. Her just leaving made even less.  
  
            Ulysses retreated back to the tent to see if anything there would give him an idea as to where she was. When he found her things gone; sickness swept over him. He wasn’t sure what to think, the fact that her belongings were completely absent down to her ashtray making his head spin. That meant that she’d gone willingly. He didn’t know what to do, so he did the only thing he knew how to— hunt her down. He figured to start at the place he’d first found her; the overlook. The thought of returning there sent a cool chill down his spine.  
  
            Ulysses remembered that day as though it had just passed. He’d been hunting her for some time, and she’d proven to be quite elusive— leaving traps and snaking her way out of his grasp time and time again. Some hope she did remember because of she did things he’d taught her. Then one day, she just let him get her. He wondered if she’d grown tired of their game of cat and mouse, or if she’d just been toying with him the whole time. He never did figure that out. All he knew was that when he arrived at the peak— she was sitting there with her feet dangling off, smoking a cigarette as if all was normal.  
  
            It stunned him, to say the least— this dangerous woman not even acknowledging the man who’d been following her. Perhaps she’d grown used to people trying to kill her and it had become normal for her. Either way, she didn’t bother to turn to him; instead offering him a smoke and a spot beside her. He’d been so confused with her actions that he’d little to do but oblige her. After all, he was to kill her. The least he could do was humor her first. She’d done him no wrong this time round— didn’t remember when she had, was different now. He wasn’t the brute he used to be, still cared. He wondered if she would beg for her life. She did not.  
  
            Instead, she began to speak— about the clouds and how she thought it was going to rain, how much she liked the smell. Brought him back to when she was younger and he didn’t have as many scars— when they would trace the constellations up here at night and fall asleep in each others arms. She spoke of her travels as if he’d not known where she’d been, spoke of the music she liked. She always gesturing about as she went. She spoke to him as if he wasn’t there to kill her, like they were friends again. Made him fall all over.  
  
            She pointed out to the sky at the birds and spoke of what she thought was out that way, so animated and carefree— laughing and smiling with a light in her eyes like he remembered. He’d almost forgotten what he was there for to begin with, too captivated by her to do anything but listen. He’d almost felt like he’d never been away from her in the first place— almost found himself laughing along at her jokes and agreeing with her way of thinking.  
  
            Wanted it to be like it was before like— like it was now. He had missed this.


	2. Chapter 2

  
            _“I know you’ve been following me,” she said after a long silence, when the sun began to fall and her laughter died. She paused to take her last hit and flick her cigarette off the cliff. “I know what you’re here for.”  
  
            “What am I here for, then?” He’d asked her, and he honestly didn’t know why he had. Ulysses watched the way her lips twitched at the corners through the thin cloth covering her mouth— that subtle, all-too-knowing smile on her face. She looked at him as though she could see the sin in his eyes— the things he’d done. Wondered if he looked like a monster to her. Ashamed, no matter how brief. Wanted this back, bad. Knew it wouldn’t be again the way it was then. Knew how this would end.  
  
_             _She spoke nothing with her lips then, just her eyes. Up close, she was more beautiful than he remembered her to be— more mature, less wired. Her tanned skin and dark hair, those bright cat green eyes lined with coal and thick lashes. They haunted him. She almost didn’t seem real, now. Wanted to reach out for her, always. That never went away.  
  
            After a measured breath and a turn of her gaze, she reached for her gun. Ulysses jumped for his own— only to realize it was gone. How and when she’d taken it, he’d no idea— but she held it now. Somehow the way she glanced toward him was relieving— made him less cautious of her. She checked the clip, seeing it was loaded and nodding. After a satisfactory hum, she slid it over to him across the wood. He didn’t make a move toward it as he should’ve— to taken aback by the gesture.  
  
_             _“Go on.” She said— encouraging him. He didn’t take his eyes off her, though, still didn’t move. So, she did— she turned away and back to the sky. He wouldn’t have believed she’d said it if not for seeing her lips move. The shock was written on his face— his eyes.  
  
            “Why?” was all he’d seemed to blurt out, confused as ever.   
  
_             _He was enthralled by her— moth to a flame— always awaiting her next move— next breath. Ulysses knew she felt it— knew she had to of felt his eyes on her since the second she’d offered him a smoke. He couldn’t help it. Missed her, maybe. Didn’t know.  
  
            She chuckled at him, looking down at her lap. “I’m tired of running.”  
  
            After a small silence, he stood— offering her his hand. She’d shaken her head at him and smiled. “I don’t want to see when it happens, if that’s alright. I like it here.”  
  
_             _He would give her that. She deserved that at least.  
  
_             _Behind her, he shook— staring at her still frame as the sun began to fall, the gun pointed at her head. He didn’t think he would feel this much apprehension, he didn’t even know her anymore. He thought he’d came to terms with this long ago.  
  
_             _“A request,” he’d asked, if only to pass the time— ease him. Perhaps if he granted her a last wish, that he wouldn’t be as hesitant as to kill her.  
  
            “Your name.” She answered, and he could hear the sad smile in her voice. If he would’ve known who she was now, maybe this would not have happened. Would have nightmares for this, have her there at least when he slept. He needed this, though. She needed this. Nothing left to hold onto, anyway, and thinking that he used to be the reason why she kept on made him sick. He would never be her reason for living again— but he could be her reason for dying. It only made sense to him that it started and ended in circles.  
  
            “Ulysses,” was all he’d said at first, taking in another breath. Couldn’t breathe— no air. He wanted this, didn’t he? Wanted to make it right. Wanted justice. “Don’t remember, do you?”  
  
            She didn’t answer him— teeth latched onto her tongue and eyes screwed shut. She wanted to remember, to cry and beg Gods she didn’t have names for until she did. Maybe it would come back to her when he pulled the trigger. Thought about doing it herself enough— might as well give someone else peace. He deserved peace, didn’t he? She’d wronged him before, even if she couldn’t remember how or when or why. She used to love him— she knew that, at least. He deserved this.  
  
            He wished he’d never known her in the first place— wished he was like her and didn’t have to remember. To be broken was one thing, but to remember why you are is another. Hated her for getting to forget everything— getting to forget him while he lived with her ghost. He hated that she wasn’t just a nameless face in the crowd, wasn’t just “Courier” to him. Hated himself for loving her.  
  
_             _With his mind made up, he pulled the trigger— firing one lonesome shot off above her head. She didn’t even flinch. Before she could question him, he dropped his gun and heaved out another breath; “Go.”_  
  



	3. Chapter 3

  
            At first she didn’t move— as if to see if he would change his mind. He shouted again at her to leave, and within a blink of an eye— she was gone. Stealth boy, maybe. Didn’t know. Felt her touch his shoulder as she passed him. He’d expected to never see her again. Didn’t leave the overlook that night— stayed on his knees with his head in his hands till the sun came up— just trying to forget her. He still felt her there— around him, beside him. Soothing and unhinging all at once. Wanted to shout out into the sky for her to go away, but he’d be talking to the dead. That wasn’t her no more, someone else instead wearing her skin. Ceres died long ago.  
  
            Ulysses thought he was losing his mind when he still felt her presence with him as he trudged on the next morning. Weeks passed and the feeling never went away. The girl haunted him like a ghost— her eyes, her smile beneath the chiffon. Then he was fighting marked men, overwhelmed and outnumbered by five with the state of mind he was in— and her katana went through a ghoul skull, and her bullet through another. It took her no time to drop those approaching, along with the one who had him pinned.  
  
            Avenging angel covered in blood splats and dust. She looked like a goddess, always had. Green eyes are all he can make out when he looks up— thinks he’s died and went to heaven because what’s death without her there? He marvels at her dumbly from his place on the dirt— seeing her smile beneath her hood as she offers him her hand. She gives no explanation as to why, and he doesn’t ask. He’s content with her just being there.  
  
            Misses her till he’s aching, as he always had. Hard not to reach for her now— when she’s breathing next to him, brushing his arm as they walk. Hard not to love her when she looks out for him— when she presses her hand to his back when they hit a crack in the ground as if she’s meaning to keep him safe. Hard not to look at her when he’s dreamt of her every night since he saw her last. Hard to be around her, because to Ulysses— she’s an angel, not even tangible or touchable, can’t ever be his.  
  
            They’d stuck together since then, and now she’d just left him. He’d gotten to know the new her— to care again— trust her and tell her things he’d not told anyone, and now she was gone. The old Ceres would never have left him without a reason. Wondered if she was even in there anymore. Wanted to know what he had done to make her go. He hadn’t felt so sick since she left him all those years ago— since she kissed him and walked off into the sands. Remembers falling to the ground on his way back home because he just couldn’t take the loss of her, of the girl he’d spent his life with.  
  
            Felt like his soul was being ripped out the farther they grew apart, always felt what she had, even the bullet. That night he woke up in a pool of sweat with a pain in his heart. He knew she was dead, and he grieved for her— mourned her. Over all else, he remembered shouting out for death. He wanted to die, that was why he lived the life he did. Turned off his emotions after that— when he realized she wasn’t coming back. Ulysses hasn’t loved since— let anyone close. Never wanted to feel that weak again.  
  
            Then he saw her name on the roster. He remembered that feeling— like he was being ripped limb from limb. He remember reeling forward once he got outside and hacking his brains out. Couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe she wouldn’t tell him she was alright. Wanted to kill her for it, for all of it. He fixed himself back up and went inside— had the man told her where she was headed. Caps could buy anyone, it seemed. She’d left three days ago— narrowly missed her by 72 hours.  
  
            So he hunted her down, and when he finally found her— he lost it. He’d been confused the whole way to her and ever since, not knowing if he wanted her dead or if he wanted her back. Too bad that he’d just missed her— just by a few hours— and when he finally got to face her, she didn’t even know his name. Didn’t even know who he was, after all that. No love in her eyes when she opened the door and found him in the doctor’s driveway— just confusion. Fear.  
  
            Ulysses wouldn’t let her go, couldn’t believe she honestly didn’t know who he was— even with the stitches on her forehead. He shouted at her, shook her and cried; _“You’re lying, you know! You’re lying!”_  
  
            Had her shaking in his arms— coiled away from him and wide eyed, screaming through tears; _“Stop, you’re scaring me!”_  
  
            Got him hauled out of town by Victor, feet dragging the dirt as he lugged him away. Couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t breathe. She just stared at him like a scared child— no love in her eyes, just fear. Didn’t even know his name. He didn’t stop chasing her, though, never did. He’d been utterly lost without her, and even if she couldn’t remember him— he wanted her back.  
  
            Now she was just gone.


	4. Chapter 4

            When he finally made it to the overlook, he could barely breathe at all— having practically ran the whole way. When he saw her sitting there at the edge as she’d done all those months ago, he felt little relief. He was still on edge, still baffled and panicked. Yet Ceres seemed nothing of the sort; relaxed shoulders and half-lidded eyes as she stared off the edge and into the sky, cigarette burning in her hand. He wanted to shake her, because he knew she realized he was there. He wanted her to feel— wanted her to show him she felt anything at all. Wanted her to love him or at least need him.  
  
            When she heard him approaching— she looked down and quickly covered her face back up. No matter how much he hated that she did it, he allowed her time to fix herself before coming closer. Didn’t want to break her trust— even after all she’d done.  
  
            “Is it ever not?” He asks her, a grave tone in his voice. She chuckles anyhow, kicking her feet out over the canyon with little care in the world. He wants to make her care.  
  
            “Is yours?” Ceres shoots back, playful. Ulysses both loved and hated this about her— how she double talked and threw his questions back in his face. Right now, Ulysses was utterly exasperated with her though— hurt and angry— unusual feelings he’d not felt in many years that soured his mood. She brought out his skeletons and monsters and made him stare them in the face, and then she was going to just leave without a word.  
  
            Ulysses ripped his respirator from his face— let it clatter to his feet without caring where it landed or if it broke. Would do anything for her, anything if she only asked. Would risk his life— die and kill for her— cut himself open and burn for her. He wanted her to feel that, too, if only in the slightest sense. He kicks it toward her, not caring if it fell off the edge at all— but Ceres was quick to catch it before it made its way over the cliff. Upon realizing just what it was that she caught— she stilled, breathing and all.  
  
            “If that’s what you want.”  
  
            Ceres huffs at him, shaking her head as he comes to sit by her side. It’s quiet for a time, and he watches her pick up his mask— watches her stare at it as she taps out her smoke on the ledge. After a time, she clasps it to her chest, all dainty hands and slender fingers— careful as though it’s his heart. It is, in some sort of symbolic way, he thinks. Her head turns away from him, eyes downcast— pain in her voice. “I can guarantee it won’t be what _you_ want.”  
  
            She’s never been so wrong in her life, but Ulysses can’t manage out the words— only a soft chuckle. “Said that before, way back when.”  
  
            She pauses, heaving out a breath. He can tell it troubles her that she can’t remember. He wants to help her with her memories, he’s tried before. It’s almost like she doesn’t want to remember— doesn’t want to know what she did. She still hasn’t come to terms with the time he forced her down into the sand and shouted in her face; _“you did this to me! You were the one who destroyed this place!”_  
  
            It was only then that he’d seen her so horrified— so afraid. He’d made her afraid of him, and no apology would ever get the thought of him out of her mind when he was grinding her shoulders into the ground and hurting her until she cried and begged him to stop. Wasn’t like she’d take an apology anyhow, always said she understood— he was right— she was sorry— it was her fault.  
  
            “Why?” She asks, pulling her legs up to her chest like she did when she was a child afraid of the dark. She does it all the time, now— whenever her past was brought up even in the slightest. “What was happening?”  
  
            Ulysses bit his tongue, wishing he’d not opened his mouth in the first place. Didn’t want to speak of it— think about how it was. That night was the night that changed everything, broke him into pieces he never really got back. “We are now as we were then.”  
  
            He planned to say no more, bringing his own leg up to his chest, looking outwards and away from her. What was he meant to say? Tell her how he kissed her? Confuse her fragile mind even more?  
  
            “We used to come here?”  
  
            He laughed quietly, shook his head just as she had to him earlier. The damage the bullet had caused was impressive; that she could forget a place they frequented like that, for years and years. How she could forget him as though he’d been nothing at all.


	5. Chapter 5

            “This was your favorite place,” he spoke, and Ceres could hear the smile in his voice as he did, “liked to compare the constellations to events and people— talk about how connected everything was. Had me read to you, sit and watch the sun go up into the heavens and fall behind the sands.”  
  
            There was a happiness in his voice she barely heard— one that only came when he spoke of “before”. She wished she could remember, spent nights awake just trying to. Yet, something was haunting her— bothering her. She needed to ask him. “Is that why you couldn’t pull the trigger? Would you have done it if I wasn’t sitting here?”  
  
            It was a valid question, but one he couldn’t answer. His smile fell with her words— with the look on her face. “Would you have done it yourself?”  
  
            She looked away at that— down to her lap, eyes wide and on the verge of spilling over. He’d leaned in to catch her gaze, close enough to breathe her in. There’s a pain in his chest that’s been there for a long time now, worse than before— intensified by the proximity. “You would’ve, wouldn’t you?”  
  
            The momentary silence was all the answer he needed, the way her fingers tensed. He drew in a sharp breath, pulling back from her— dizzy, weak, sick. He couldn’t believe it. She uses his shock against him, hurrying to stand, her coat under her arm. “I should get—”  
  
            “ _Why_.” Ulysses asks her, strain in his voice— eyes set forward in attempt to keep himself together. He couldn’t look at her.  
  
            “I just—” she mutters out quickly, shaking with the step she takes back. She turns away from him to take a breath— pull herself back together, but when she turns back around he’s right in front of her.  
  
            “It’s too much, okay?” She shouts, waving her hands like a madwoman. “And I’m tired of it all. You can look down on me and chastise me all you want for feeling that way— but you’d feel the same damn way if you were me. Everyone wants me dead— wants to suck me dry, life and all— take all I got, and I have nothing, I’m all used up. There’s nothing for me now, no reason. I just…”  
  
            “I want to give you one,” he says, before he can stop himself. Ceres goes silent before him, shoulders slumped and lips parted— unmoving. He turns his head— afraid to see her now, because it’s too hard to make out words when she looks at him that way. “I used to. Thought I could be that again— make you want to live.”  
  
            With his confession comes relief and fear— a pause in her breathing that he can hear. He looks at her to find her eyes shut, too, head canted toward him— crease between her brows like she’s hurting. He reaches out to her, to touch her face— but as soon as fingers graze skin, her eyes are open and she’s gripping his wrist— stopping him. It hurts him so much more the second time.  
  
            “Don’t,” she snaps— letting him go, pulling back and shaking her head frantically, “because that’s the problem. I care— others realize, and people get hurt.”   
  
            “Do you _see_ anyone out here?” He huffs at her with an outward wave of his hands, nearly furious with her reasoning. “There’s no one, Ceres! No one to hurt you when I’m here, and no one would’ve ever hurt you had you not left in the first place. If you’ve yet to realize—”  
  
            “Always!” She shouts, the tears finally pouring down her face. “It always happens. Do you know how many people have died because of me? Because I didn’t want to be alone out there, was too weak to be by myself? I lost good people out there, Ulysses, and damn it— I’m not losing you, too!”  
  
            He tries to step toward her— wants to hold her when she cries. “Stop it!” Ceres barks out, evading him— her hand out to block him from trying again. His arms stay open anyhow, waiting— wanting her to just let him be there, just this once.   
  
            “Not out there anymore, are you? Figured you would—”  
  
            “ _What_?” Ceres whines, stomping her foot on the ground, “Where else am I gonna go but back out there?”  
  
            “You could stay,” he breathes out— almost inaudible, shaking his head at her. “You used to—”  
  
            “What, and hurt you again?” She chuckles lightly at the end of her words— mirthless and breaking. She looks away from him and to the ground, whispering under her breath. “I broke enough of you already.”  



	6. Chapter 6

  
            There was nothing he wanted more than her. Never was. Ulysses wasn’t gonna let her just leave— not like this, not ever. If she went, he would follow, even if from a distance and she didn’t know he was there. He would keep with her, keep her safe. Couldn’t live without that. So if she left after this anyway— it didn’t matter, because at least he’d tried. Didn’t mean he’d ever give up, though— give up trying to bring her back to where they were, give up trying to make her care.  
  
            “Only thing that kept me going was looking for you,” he told her, taking a step forward. He reached for her again, and this time she didn’t bother to run. Took it as a sign she didn’t want to go in the first place. She was just scared. “Was a mistake the first time I let you walk off.”  
  
            Ulysses pressed his hand to her face, careful not to startle her. Ceres’ eyes shut. He shook as he traced down her cheek with the back of his knuckles— across the thin cloth covering her. She jolted when he did; hissing through bared teeth and turning her face away from him. He stopped moving; saw how her eyes were screwed shut, teeth clamped together as well as her hands. He didn’t knew it would hurt her like that.  
  
            “Ulysses,” she sighed, eyes closed tight. His hand was on hers, uncurling the fists she’d made, stroking her palm before bringing it to rest on his heart. His fingers ran back across her face, gentler than before— careful not to disturb the scars beneath the cloth. Her breath caught when he neared the edge of it, but she let him pull the fabric from her— let it fall to the ground. The air across the old scars felt strange— they never really healed— made her burn.  
  
            His hand pressed to her cheek, didn’t move— just stayed— and Ceres held tight to his wrist to keep him there. Hurt less when he touched her, but he still felt tears across his fingertips. This time, she let him hold her, fingers running circles on her hip and carding through her hair. Let him linger close to her lips, speak against them. “I want you to stay.”  
  
            She breathed him in deep, opening her eyes to look at him. “What would you have done if I hadn’t walked away that night?”  
  
            His fingers froze where they were, eyes set heavy on hers— she could see the pain in them. He breathed out like she had her hands around his throat, strangled sounding. “Would’ve kissed you. Would’ve told you that I loved you.”  
  
            “Do you love me now?” She asked, off-key and strained.   
  
            “Never stopped,” he admitted, thumbing the gash at the corner of her lip, “still want you here. Scars don’t change that, time doesn’t. Even if you don’t remember.”  
  
            “Seeing you scared me,” she whispered, pressing her hand over his, “couldn’t remember much, but I knew you meant something. Knew that I loved you.”  
  
            “And now?” He asked her, even though he feared the answer. Didn’t speak but she said enough with how she looked at him— how she leaned into the palm of his hand and slid her fingers up to lace with his. It was enough for him.


End file.
